Killer Bees
by Starsky's Strut
Summary: Another camping trip to Pine Lake gone bad.


All usual disclaimers apply, I don't own the rights, I don't get money and this is for entertainment only. Please excuse any errors; they are entirely mine. Thanks for the help Kreek, you were right.

This story was inspired by an attack of yellow jackets on my dog Ben last Friday. He came out of it okay and the bugs have now been exterminated.

This one is for Vermilion Angel, who underestimates her prodigious talent, but shouldn't.

**Killer Bees  
**By Starsky's Strut

It was a fine, late afternoon at Pine Lake. Hutch smiled happily as he arranged logs in the unlit fireplace. It was good to be back up here. They wouldn't have to worry about witches, strange town's people or bears, like on their last visit. As for snakes… Well, he down played that part to Starsky. Since there weren't any crazy witches, there shouldn't be any snakes in the refrigerator again. It had taken him nearly a year to coax Starsky into coming along. But now they were here.

The log he just set on top, rolled down to the bottom. He put it back on top and then thought about what he was doing. It was summer and warm, so they didn't technically need a fire tonight. But somehow, it wasn't a camping trip without a fire. _'Now why would that be?'_ He scratched his head at the notion. What was it about a fire that made camping complete? Was it the warm glow? The smell of burning wood? Or maybe it was the soft crackle and pop of the flames consuming the lumber? Or a combination of all of those things? Well, whatever it was, it just wasn't camping without the –

"Huuuuutch!"

--sound of Starsky bellowing his name. "What now? Did a bunny rabbit look at you funny?" Hutch grumbled to himself as he climbed to his feet. Sometimes Starsky could be such a pansy. The blond never could figure out how his friend could survive the muddy, bloody jungle battlefields of Vietnam and yet be such a crybaby when it came to camping. Hell, they had a cabin, indoor plumbing, stove and a fridge. It wasn't like they were 'roughing' it by any means.

"I outta take you on a _real_ camping trip sometime, buddy. Show you the difference. This is a walk in the park." The blond walked over to a window to see what Starsky was still yelling about. "Probably saw a chipmunk." He pulled the curtain back and looked around for his friend.

"Huuuuutch! Heeeeelp!"

There was a note of panic in Starsky's voice and it made the blond press his face to the glass. That's when he spotted Starsky making a beeline for the door, arms flailing and wind milling about him, seemingly slapping at the very air around him. His wildly gyrating actions made it seem like he was trying to hit everywhere at once. "What the hell?" Hutch turned from the window and dashed to the door, opening it just before Starsky slammed into it.

The brunet stumbled over the threshold, tripped and fell to the floor, where he began rolling and screaming "Huuuutch! Get 'em off! Oww! Get 'em off me! Hurry!"

It took the confused blond a few seconds to process what was happening. Bees. There were bees all over his partner. "Oh god!" He started slapping at his friend, smashing and knocking the bees off of Starsky as quickly as he could. Some of the bees rose off of the twitching, rolling form and zeroed in on to Hutch. It felt like he was being stuck with hot needles. The pain was instant and tremendous. "Argh!" he grunted in pain as he continued trying to help his beleaguered friend. His lips twitched at the unintentional pun. Starsky was bee-leaguered alright. And now, so was he.

The bees landed and began crawling all over his black t-shirt, some of them stopped to sting him. Hutch could even feel them hit him and bounce off, only to try again. Other bees clung to his hair and dug in until they reached his scalp, stinging there as well. No amount of slapping or swatting kept the bugs away. His hands received many stings as he swatted and batted them off poor Starsky.

As he battled, Hutch recalled that bees, after they had sunk their sting into their victims, would pull away, leaving behind the stinger and venom sack stuck in their victims. The sack would pulsate obscenely as it delivered its cargo of venom. The bees would die after ripping out their barbed stinger, but their actions were a trumpet call to action, attracting still more bees into the fray. He shivered at the notion.

"Hutch."

His name was a whimper off of Starsky's normally stoic lips. It pulled the blond mentally back to the situation at hand, and the fact that his friend was still under an intense attack. The bees were stinging them both now; the house seemed to fill with the horrid things. Hutch looked about in horror at the bee-filled room.

A swarm of pissed off bees in a confined space, equaled a bad time for all involved parties.

Hutch reached down and grabbed Starsky's arm, tugging him to his feet, yelling "C'mon! Hurry, we gotta get to the lake!"

Once Starsky gained his feet, the pair bolted for the door, leaving it wide open as they left. They made for the water, batting at the angry insects as they ran. They splashed in and sank beneath the surface, only to be attacked again when they came back up. Hutch grabbed Starsky's arm and encouraged him to swim under the surface for as long as he could hold his breath. They made it some distance before resurfacing well beyond their starting point.

Hutch looked worriedly at his partner and the brunet panted wildly as he treaded the murky water of the lake. The blond could feel the hot burn of bee stings and knew Starsky was also hurting, and his partner had been exposed to more insects for a longer period of time than he had. A bee slapped his cheek, refocusing his attention. He quickly reached over and pulled Starsky with him as he went underwater.

They resurfaced about twenty feet away, where they traded a look as they quickly swam for the far shore. Once there, they wearily hauled themselves out and onto the muddy bank. They stayed there for a few minutes, just in case the bees followed them for another attack.

When no bees showed up, Hutch got to his feet. "C'mon Starsk, let's find a log or rock to sit on for an hour or so to give those bees a chance to settle down, leave the cabin and go home." He reached out a hand to help Starsky to his feet, and that's when he noticed his friend was shaking.

The tall blond knelt close and put his hand on the shaking shoulder. "Starsk?"

Starsky's wide eyes met his. There was fear in them. The brunet's teeth began to clack rapidly together, making a sound like a teletype. He began coughing, hard.

Hutch patted him on the back. "You okay?"

"No, I think I swallowed a bee. Maybe two." He hacked and spit a few more times, his shaking increased.

"Ouch!" Hutch pulled his partner into his arms, knowing that the shaking and teeth rattling were reaction from the attack, the pain, and the adrenalin rush. As he gently pulled the soaked, curly head onto his shoulder, he realized he was shaking too. He held Starsky close until their shaking subsided to the occasional shiver.

Hutch threaded his fingers through the waterlogged curls and was sickened when he started to find the bodies of bees trapped in the dense strands. He pulled out twelve before he quit counting, there were just too many and his hands started shaking again as he pulled out bee after bee, dropping the dead bodies on the damp ground beside them.

He noticed Starsky staring at the growing pile of bee bodies.

Starsky must have felt his eyes on him, for he looked and their gazes met. "Them all from me?" He pointed at the pile.

"Yep, so far. There's more of 'em."

"Terrific" Starsky's face paled and his Adam's apple bobbed, his eyes rose and connected with his partner's. "How'd I look?"

"Bee-utiful." Hutch chucked as he stood up. Inwardly, he was concerned.

"Smartass."

"Comin' from you, that's a compliment, since I'd rather be a smartass then a dumbass any day." The blond offered his hand and Starsky took it and Hutch pulled his partner to his feet. "C'mon, let's find more comfortable place to have a better look at your stings."

"Yours too." Starsky reached up and pulled a dead bee out of the blond strands. He flicked it off into the bushes.

"Sure," Hutch agreed. He noticed some suitable boulders a little ways away from the shore. "Have a seat." He indicated the big rocks.

The brunet nodded and wearily plopped down on the nearest one. "You need new furniture partner; this chair is as hard as a rock."

"Hey, don't knock it. This stuff is durable, it'll last a lifetime." Hutch chuckled as he patted Starsky's pockets until he found his partner's pocketknife. He started at the brunet's head, using blunt edge of the knife to carefully scrape the stingers out of Starsky's skin. This was to prevent squishing the sacks and forcing more venom into his friend's skin. Most of the venom sacks were not pulsating anymore, meaning more then three minutes had passed since Starsky had gotten stung. But even with removing them, the brunet had still gotten the full load of countless bee stings.

Starsky reached up and grabbed at his hand.

"Starsk, not now, I gotta get these off of you." The blond went back to his stinger removal. Starsky grabbed his hand again.

"Hutch… I don't feel so good."

At the slightly breathless sound in his partner's voice, Hutch looked up at his friend's face. There was some puffiness around the eyes and cheeks. "You don't look so good."

"Gee, you say the sweetest-" Starsky inhaled before continuing, "things."

The pause for air between those words made Hutch's pulse speed up. His friend's airway was being affected. "Are you allergic to bees Starsk?"

"Been stung before… but only… once or twice at… a time. Nothin' like… this though."

It was obvious that Starsky was having a harder time breathing now. Hutch grabbed his friend's hand. "C'mon!" If he was lucky, he had about a half an hour to get his friend to a doctor.

"Wh-where…?" The brunet stood on shaky legs and leaned on his partner.

"We gotta get back to the cabin, that's where the car is. Gotta get you to a doctor, fast." Hutch pulled one of Starsky's arms over his shoulders and they set off around the small lake, just as quickly as his ailing partner could go.

"Be faster to… swim." The brunet pointed across the lake with his free hand.

Hutch looked at the water. It would be quicker, but if Starsky quit breathing, there would be nothing he could do until he got to them both to other side of the lake. It was too risky. "Nah, I just ate, don't wanna get cramps."

"'m that… bad off?" Worry crinkled the dark brows.

Trust Starsky to figure out what he really meant. "Are you allergic to bee stings Starsk?"

"Second… time… you've ask that… No. Don't… think so… Lotta stings… this time… Why… can't I… breathe?" He leaned a little heavier on Hutch.

"Anaphylactic shock." The worried blond muttered out loud, taking on more of Starsky's weight as he kept up the pace.

"Prophylactic shock?" The brunet wheezed with laughter. "I… think I had… that last… weekend… with… Tammy."

"ANAphlactic, dummy. C'mon, keep movin' Starsk. We gotta get to my car, fast!"

"Thought… you weren't supposed… to move too fast… spreads the poison… quicker." The brunet clutched at his neckline of his soaked t-shirt. "Slow down… can't breathe!"

"Sorry partner, can't slow down. Gotta get you to a doctor. Besides, the adrenalin you're getting from this run is helping to counteract some of the effects of the venom." Hutch hoped it were true. It was a good thing that this part of the lake was so narrow; it wasn't that much further to the cabin and his car. "Not much longer now."

Starsky nodded, not having any breath to waste on talking.

Hutch took more and more of his friend's weight as Starsky's breathing got worse. He was wheezing on both the inhalations and exhalations as his airway was increasingly compromised. The tall detective was practically carrying his partner by the time they reached the LTD.

Hutch leaned Starsky against the car and eased him in on the passenger side. A bee slammed into him as he dashed around the front of the car and got in. He felt it sink its barb into his skin but gave it no more thought as he put the car in gear and pealed out of the driveway, kicking a cloud of dust in the air.

Starsky gradually sideways on the passenger seat until the back of his head landed in Hutch's lap.

"Starsk? Starsky? Can ya hear me?" Hutch patted the pasty face. There was a slight nod of the curly head. "Good. Try to put your feet up on the door frame; it'll help with the shock."

There was another nod and the brunet slowly managed to up his feet up. One hand rose and weakly waved in the air. The blond grabbed it and hung on. "I'm right here buddy, right here. Hang on." Hutch begged as he maneuvered the heavy vehicle down the dusty road back towards town, calling for assistance on the police radio as he did so.

Precious minutes later, the blond felt the chest under his hand go still. The hand that had been tightly clutching his own, slowly went limp. "Starsk!" Hutch stomped on the brake pedal and the vehicle screeched to a halt, he threw it into park. "Starsky!" He shook his partner, but got no response. He quickly opened the door and climbed out of the car to give himself more room to work; he leaned down and attempted a rescue breath. It didn't work. He readjusted Starsky's head and tried again, creating a tight seal over his friend's mouth as he pinched the nostrils closed and tried again, the air refused to go in.

He lifted his head, taking in the slack, blue tinged. "Starsky… come on! Don't do this; it's not your time!" He tried again. His friend's airway had completely closed. There was only one thing he could do now. With shaking fingers, Hutch pulled Starsky's jackknife from his pocket and opened the sharpest blade. Next he located the Adam's apple and found the small notch in his partner's neck.

Hutch knew he had to cut a hole in his best friend's throat. Had to. His hands started to shake so badly that he nearly dropped the blade. He had to stop and gather his shattered nerves. If he didn't do this, Starsky would die.

It was just that simple and that difficult.

So many nerves and vessels ran through that part of the neck… he could do permanent damage. He pushed out all thoughts of the damage he could inadvertently do. If he did nothing, his best friend would die. That was a fact. He found his nerve and firmly made the cut. Air that had been trapped in the lungs, hissed through the small, bloody slit.

Hutch swallowed the vomit that gathered in the back of his throat and made the hole a little bigger. Rivulets of blood trickled down the sides of Starsky's neck. Hutch popped open the glove compartment to find something to stick into the hole to keep it open. He found a pen and quickly dismantled it, using the tube part to help maintain a clear airway. It wasn't ideal. It wasn't sanitary. But it _was_ working.

He gently pushed his fingers through the damp curls and listened to the music of his friend's breath whistling through the narrow pen tube. Ambulance sirens soon joined in and Hutch finally gave in to the urge to vomit, leaning quickly out of the car to spill his lunch on the pavement.

XXXX

One week later 

Hutch looked at his hands. The honeybee stingers had all been removed and the sting sites had all completely healed. It wasn't the stings he was thinking about. It was the blood he had gotten on them from cutting Starsky's neck open that he was currently thinking about. He stopped in a hospital restroom and washed his already clean hands. He glanced at his watch. It was time for Starsky to be discharged. He quickly dried his hands and headed for his partner's room.

At the doorway, he heard a swat and a giggle. He rolled his eyes before he entered and cleared his throat.

The nurse, who had been bending over Starsky, stood bolt upright and blushed as she adjusted her uniform, closing the top three buttons. She coughed and turned a brighter shade of red "Mr. Starsky is ready to leave now." She adjusted the wheelchair beside the bed and patted it. "In you go."

The brunet took his time buttoning up his shirt. He winked at Hutch and slowly climbed off the bed and into the wheelchair. "I could stay another day or two." His voice was still husky from the impromptu, but lifesaving surgery. He caressed the nurse's hand. She giggled.

Hutch rolled his eyes some more and collected their meager belongings.

The LTD was in the hospital loading zone and Starsky got in after giving Nurse Veronica a long kiss, managing to undo her three top buttons again.

Hutch got in and started the car. It was good to be going home. He needed a vacation after this vacation. He gave a little shake to rid himself of that honeybees-crawling-on-his-skin feeling that he would get every so often, since the attack.

"You okay?"

The raspy question brought Hutch back to the present. "Yeah, I'm fine. So was Nurse Veronica." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and the departing nurse.

Starsky simply beamed back at him.

"I've been dying to know, how did all this happen?" The blond asked.

"How did all what happen?" The brunet's mock puzzlement was quickly replaced by smugness. " Wait, I remember, you insisted we go camping. That's how this happened." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." He waved his index finger under his friend's nose. "How did that bee attack start? Honeybees are fairly docile. Unless their hive is threatened…" The blond's voice trailed off, then his eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"Nothin'. Really." The brunet innocently looked out the window at the scenery.

"Starsky, they don't just go on a major rampage for 'nothin'. So what did you do to them? Poke the hive with a stick?"

Starsky angrily slapped a hand down on the seat between them. "Aw c'mon Hutch, give me some credit for brains. I know better then to do that!" The brunet coughed a little as the yelling aggravated his still healing throat.

One blond eyebrow rose slowly and mockingly.

Dark blue eyes refused to meet with light blue ones. "I ummm… I dunno. I was taking a little walk, ya know and… ummm, I… stumbled on 'em." Starsky hoarsely hedged.

"You tripped over the nest?" The blond brow rose a little higher. "This whole mess was brought on by clumsiness?"

"I tripped?" Starsky questioned, before snapping his fingers and pointing at his partner "Yeah, that's it, tripped and fell… I fell on 'em."

Hutch shook his head in a negative fashion. "The doctor told me everything. He found it very peculiar that you sustained several stings to… uh… _little _Starsky. Told me in all his years of practice, he's never seen that many stings _there_ before. Care to explain that? I am ever so curious." The blond's fingers drummed on the steering wheel.

The brunet muttered something.

"What was that? I can't hear you." Hutch put a hand to his right ear.

"I was takin' a leak." The reply was a gravelly whisper.

The blond detective's jaw dropped. "You peed on the hive? No wonder they were so pissed off... pissed on? Er… mad. That explains everything." Hutch threw a hand up in the air. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinkin' I needed to take a leak. That's what I was thinkin'. I _wasn't_ thinkin' 'Gee… there are some bees, I think I'll pee on their house.'" Starsky put a hand to the bandage on his throat. The ache in his throat grew and it really hurt to talk. "I didn't know that the hive was there, I never woulda done that on purpose." The brunet managed to croak out.

Hutch noticed the motion and relented. "Okay, I know you wouldn't do that on purpose. So what have you learned?"

"That wasps and hornets can sting several times, but honeybees can only sting once, then they die. I also learned to never, ever to go camping at Pine Lake. It's too dangerous." He mockingly saluted the blond. "Sir."

"Starsky" Hutch groaned.

"But, if I ever do go again. I'll make sure you're with me. Okay?"

The blond just had to smile. "Deal."

**The End**


End file.
